


sex jail

by 1000_directions



Series: mcu kink bingo [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Breaking the Bed, Deaf Clint Barton, Handcuffs, M/M, MCU Kink Bingo, Rimming, Safewords, Sexual Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-12-06 19:21:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18224375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000_directions/pseuds/1000_directions
Summary: “Am I under arrest, officer?” Clint asks. He trails one hand down his body and cups his dick, palming it lazily through the thin material of his briefs. “Have I been bad?”“Obviously,” Bucky snorts. “Spread ‘em, tough guy. Hands where I can see them.”“Oh, I think you can see my hands just fine where they are,” Clint says, thumbing at the wet patch forming near the head of his cock.“Might have to cuff you,” Bucky muses, and he can see the way Clint’s dick twitches even through his briefs. “Yeah?”“Yeah,” Clint breathes. “Shit, yeah.”





	sex jail

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ClaraxBarton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaraxBarton/gifts), [Kangofu_CB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kangofu_CB/gifts).



> I could have changed this title, but...I didn't. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> This story was inspired by [this amazing art](http://claraxbarton.tumblr.com/post/183663607100/welp-mistakes-were-made-whats-the-story-here) by Clara. Hot diggity damn.
> 
> This is probably the same Bucky and Clint from [filthy as charged](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17607908), but you shouldn’t need to read that story to understand this one.
> 
> This story contains an instance of one character disarming a non-lethal weapon and then pointing it vaguely in the direction of another character during foreplay. No one is injured.
> 
> This story also contains some very vague and joking roleplay about cops and criminals. It's not serious, no one is coerced, there are safewords in place, and everyone has a good time.
> 
> mcukinkbingo square filled: sex toy: handcuffs  
> clintbartonbingo square filled: prison

Bucky turns the key in the lock and steps into the dark apartment, sighing with relief. It’s been a long day, but he’s finally home.

“Whazzat?” Clint mumbles sleepily from the bedroom door. Soft light escapes the room behind him, haloing his silhouette, and Bucky silently takes him in, the lines and the planes of him forming a sleek shadow in the doorway.

“Just me,” Bucky says. “Go back to bed, sweetheart.” He toes off his shoes and hangs his coat on the hook. Clint ignores him, of course, and pads across the room to greet him. He’s just wearing tiny purple briefs to sleep in, and something in Bucky’s chest gets all swoopy to see his boyfriend’s bare skin all laid out on display, muscles on muscles on muscles, tall and powerful even at rest.

“No ears,” Clint says, a little too loud, and Bucky nods. As Clint gets closer, Bucky can see now that he clearly isn’t wearing his aids. He’d actually been sleeping then, and Lucky must have let him know someone was at the door. Good boy.

“ _Go to bed_ ,” Bucky signs, but Clint shakes his head and gets closer.

“Gimme a kiss,” he says, pressing himself right up against Bucky and ducking his head.

Clint’s mouth is wanton and irresistible and _right there_ , and Bucky’s helpless to stop himself from yielding to his soft, dreamy kisses. He cups Clint’s face in his hands, holds him in place to kiss him slow and sweet, like it’s not the middle of the night, like they aren’t both sleepy and struggling to stay upright. Bucky kisses Clint like they have all the time in the world.

Clint runs his hands over Bucky’s shoulders and down his back, mapping out Bucky’s musculature with deft hands and pulling their bodies flush. They’re never close enough for Clint’s liking, Bucky has learned. He always, always wants to be closer.

“Hello there,” Clint murmurs, his lips brushing against Bucky’s ear. He lifts his head enough to let Bucky see his smirk. “Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

“Both?” Bucky replies, exaggerating the lip shape slightly so he doesn’t have to take his hands off of Clint’s face to sign a response.

“Shut up,” Clint says with a grin. “Take off your guns and take off your pants and fuck me back to sleep.”

Bucky groans. It’s so _unfair_ , Clint saying shit like that when he can’t hear anything Bucky would say in response. So he doesn’t say anything at all, just kisses Clint’s jaw, the front of his throat, the side of his neck, and Clint lets his head fall to one side with a breathy moan that just makes Bucky _want him_.

Before Bucky even realizes what’s happening, Clint scrambles into his arms, wrapping his legs around Bucky’s waist and just clinging to him like a handsy, acrobatic koala.

“I’ve got you,” Bucky says, circling his arms around Clint. He knows Clint is strong and agile enough to support himself without any assistance, but Bucky can’t help it. Tending to Clint is second-nature, instinctive. He breathes, he works, he shoots, he looks out for Clint.

“Take me to bed right now,” Clint says, licking his lips, “or I’m gonna have you arrested.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow as he walks them towards the bedroom.

“Sex jail,” Clint clarifies, trailing a finger down Bucky’s chest, between his pecs. “You’re under arrest for being too goddamn sexy.”

Bucky shakes his head and bites back a grin. He’s mostly used to Clint’s compliments and his weirdness individually, but he does get caught off guard sometimes when Clint unleashes them both at once.

“If anyone should be in sex jail, it’s you,” Bucky grumbles, though he knows Clint can’t hear him.

He nudges open the bedroom door with his hip. Lucky lifts his head from his paws and regards them serenely. He is curled up in the exact center of their bed, where he _knows_ he’s not supposed to be, but Clint is a pushover who lets him get away with all kinds of shit when Bucky gets back late.

“Lucky, get in your house,” Bucky says firmly, and the dog grunts and blinks his soulful doggy eye at them before scrambling off the bed and out of the room to find his own bed down the hall. Bucky kicks the door closed and then unceremoniously dumps Clint in the middle of the bed.

“Put you in sex jail for manhandling me,” Clint sniffs as he slumps down into the mattress, but he’s smiling, and the way he’s sprawled on the bed is soft and inviting, all of his muscles relaxed. Like he’s just waiting for a chance to yield completely.

“You like being manhandled,” Bucky says carefully, checking Clint’s face to make sure this is true, even though he already knows that it is from previous conversations they’ve had.

Clint makes a face and reaches over one shoulder to pluck his hearing aids from the bedside table, and the long, lean stretch of his body is frankly obscene.

“Take your clothes off,” Clint says softly as he slips his aids back into his ears. “Should be illegal to keep that body covered up, Bucky, I fucking swear.”

“Should put you in sex jail for being a mouthy punk,” Bucky says with a crooked smile, but he tugs his shirt off over his head and systematically removes his guns and knives while Clint watches.

“Am I under arrest, officer?” Clint asks. He trails one hand down his body and cups his dick, palming it lazily through the thin material of his briefs. “Have I been bad?”

“Obviously,” Bucky snorts. He disarms his taser and then aims it vaguely at Clint. “Spread ‘em, tough guy. Hands where I can see them.”

“Oh, I think you can see my hands just fine where they are,” Clint says, thumbing at the wet patch forming near the head of his cock.

“Might have to cuff you,” Bucky muses, and he can see the way Clint’s dick twitches even through his briefs. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Clint breathes. “Shit, yeah.”

“Hands above your head,” Bucky says, his voice quiet but firm, and Clint obeys this time, licking his lips and blinking his dark eyes at Bucky as his wrists hit the pillow above him. “You remember your word, sweetheart?”

“It’s, uh.” Clint furrows his brow. “Mahogany? No, that was last time.”

“It’s a country,” Bucky reminds him, stripping off the rest of his clothing. He starts looking through their toy drawer. He knows they have one pair of handcuffs, but he’s hoping they have two.

“Panama,” Clint says eventually. “It’s Panama.”

“Are you going to remember that?” Bucky finds a leather padded pair of sturdy handcuffs and a flimsy feathered pair. That’ll have to do. It’s not like Clint couldn’t break out of either of them if he wanted to.

“I’ll remember,” Clint says. “I’ll say ‘Panama’ if I want you to stop.” His eyes fall shut, and he breathes heavily out of his nose, and his whole body ripples from the effort, and Bucky is going to _ruin_ him. “But what...what do I say to get you to _go_? Please, Buck.”

“You don’t get to tell me when to go,” Bucky says. “You just stay still and let me work.”

Bucky drags his index finger up the entire length of Clint’s arm to his wrist, feeling each shudder and tremble. He fits one feathery cuff around Clint’s left wrist and the other to the headboard behind him, then does the same on the right with the leather cuffs. Clint’s arms are devastatingly muscular from so many years holding a bow, but he yields so gorgeously, letting himself be arranged however Bucky wants him to be.

“Does that feel okay?” Bucky asks, smoothing his fingers over Clint’s bunched shoulders. “Think you can stay like that for a while, or do you need a different angle?”

Clint bites his lip and wriggles a little, flexing his arms and rolling his shoulders, letting his neck loll from side to side.

“Feels okay,” he says. “I’ll tell you if it’s not.”

Clint is stunning, always, but there’s something about seeing him stretched out and tied to their bed, completely at Bucky’s mercy, pretty as a picture and ready to be teased and played with and utterly ruined.

“Are you gonna get me off or what?” Clint asks, and his eyes already look hungry and unfocused.

“Eventually,” Bucky says, “if you deserve it.” He will, of course, and it’s late and they’re both tired, so he isn’t even going to make Clint wait too long for it. But there’s no reason for Clint to know that.

Clint huffs out a breath and drags his toes up his opposite shin, ruffling through his leg hair like he’s just fucking desperate to be touched and this is the best he can manage.

“No,” Bucky says softly. “I’m the only one doing the touching.” He pushes Clint’s legs apart and scoots onto the mattress between them so that they can’t close again. He fits one hand gently around Clint’s foot and ducks his head, kissing the knobby malleolus of his ankle and dragging his lips higher, spending one torturous minute behind Clint’s knee that has him squirming and trying to kick out, and then he’s nibbling his way up Clint’s inner thigh, rubbing his stubbled cheeks over Clint’s sensitive skin until he’s whimpering and vibrating under Bucky’s hungry mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Clint is muttering, and he raises his hips, trying to angle his cock towards Bucky.

“Are you soliciting an officer?” Bucky murmurs. “Might have to add more charges.”

Truly, he doesn’t know what game they’re playing anymore, or if they even really are. But when he licks delicately at the wet patch at the front of Clint’s briefs and Clint lets out a broken, desperate noise, Bucky doesn’t care anymore. He’s going to take care of his boy. He sucks the damp from the fabric, and Clint makes a hiccuping noise, inhuman and urgent, and when Clint wraps one leg around Bucky’s shoulders to hold him in place, Bucky lets him.

“I’ve got you,” Bucky murmurs, and he feels Clint twitch beneath his lips. Jesus, it’s hot how quickly he gets worked up, and Bucky isn’t exactly unaffected either. He’d been planning to fuck Clint, but now he doesn’t think he can wait that long. “You can’t come until after I do. Okay, sweetheart?”

“Okay,” Clint says breathlessly. “Whatever you say. God.”

“Okay,” Bucky repeats, and then he wiggles Clint’s briefs down just enough for his cock to pop out, eager and red and already dripping, and he laps a lackadaisical path from root to tip, just tonguing at the flushed skin and ignoring Clint’s impatient whimpers.

“Oh god,” Clint whines. “Oh god, oh god, you’re gonna kill me.”

Bucky hums in assent, because he half suspects that he will, and then he rubs his closed lips over the tip of Clint’s cock, pushing Clint’s hips back down into the bed when they rock upwards.

“Can you stay still?” Bucky asks.

“I don’t think so,” Clint says honestly, his hips still weakly thrusting against Bucky’s grip. “Want you too bad. Fuck. You have to hold me down.”

“You’re impossible,” Bucky says, nipping at the thin skin of Clint’s inner thigh. Clint squeals, and Bucky uses the distraction to pull his briefs halfway down his thighs. He roughly tangles his metal fist in the crotch of his underwear so that Clint’s thighs snap together, and then he yanks upwards until his hips rise a few inches off the bed. He’s just dangling there, exposed and completely at Bucky’s mercy.

“Oh shit,” Clint says, and his dick blurts out more precome. He wriggles in the air, but he doesn’t have any leverage. He can’t do anything but babble “Oh god, oh god, oh _god_ ,” as Bucky ducks his head and licks a wide, wet stripe over his exposed hole.

“Don’t come,” Bucky reminds him.

Clint doesn’t say anything at all, just moans and tries to wiggle his ass towards Bucky’s mouth, but Bucky has him perfectly suspended so that he can’t move.

“Doing so good for me, darling,” Bucky says, and Clint keens, thigh muscles twitching as Bucky licks over his hole again, keeping his tongue soft and flat and unhurried, no matter how much Clint twitches and curses.

This is for Clint’s benefit, but it’s also for Bucky’s. Feeling Clint break to pieces under his mouth gets Bucky going like nothing else, and he ruts happily against the mattress as he wiggles the point of his tongue inside Clint, feeling his muscles contract and relax against the intrusion as Bucky slowly, slowly licks his way into Clint.

“Fuck,” Clint is chanting now, “fuck, fuck, fuck, oh _god_ , fucking _shit_.” And Bucky always gets off on this, knowing how turned on Clint is for him, knowing that he’s doing a good job at making Clint feel amazing. He flicks his tongue over Clint’s loosened rim a few more times, savoring each desperate whine that falls from Clint’s mouth, and then he pulls his head back and gently sets Clint’s hips back down on the bed.

“I’m gonna come on you,” Bucky says. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” Clint says, his voice barely a whisper, his eyes wide and vacant and fucked-out. He licks his lips and rubs his feet against the sheets. “Come all over me.”

Bucky straddles Clint’s thighs, and even all his supersoldier weight is barely enough to keep Clint pinned to the bed. He’s tense and coiled beneath Bucky, all of his muscles cocked and ready for action, and it’s all Bucky can do to push him down to the bed as he fists his swollen cock and quickly begins to jack himself off. It won’t take much, he’s already so hot and ready from getting Clint so turned on, and the look on Clint’s face gets him the rest of the way there, the spacey submission, the way his head drops back to expose his vulnerable throat, the way he keeps licking his lips without knowing it, like he’s so fucking hungry for anything at this point. Bucky groans and comes over Clint’s stomach and his dick, and Clint moans low and long, like _he’s_ the one feeling release, like Bucky’s orgasm is so, so satisfying for him, too.

“Gimme,” Clint says, his voice low and wrecked, and he could be talking about anything at this point, so Bucky figures he’ll just give him everything. He shuffles up Clint’s body on his knees, until Clint can raise his head just enough to suck on the head of Bucky’s spent cock, cleaning him up with his acquiescent mouth. Bucky grunts with pleasure, then looks over his shoulder and runs his hand through his own come on Clint’s abs. He wraps his fist around Clint’s cock, using his come to ease the glide, and Clint whimpers around his dick, and Bucky feels the vibrations all the way down into his bones as he quickly flicks his wrist, working Clint hard and sure, the way he likes.

“Are you going to come for me, sweetheart?” Bucky asks breathlessly. Clint blinks at him, still suckling weakly at the head of his dick, and his dutiful tongue and his trusting eyes are devastating to Bucky right now. If it wasn’t the middle of the night, he’d think about drawing this out, going again a time or two before he really let Clint come. But it’s late, and Clint’s been so good, and Bucky wants to give him one powerful orgasm that shakes his skeleton and leaves him completely wrung out and satisfied, and then Bucky wants to kiss his tired shoulders and cuddle him to sleep.

Bucky lightly pushes his thumb into the bundle of nerves under the head of Clint’s cock that he can barely stand to have touched unless he’s this worked up, and all of Clint’s muscles tense at once as he loses control, his legs kicking out, his hips bucking wildly, his arms stretching towards Bucky so violently that the bed makes a sickening cracking sound and lurches to one side as Clint screws his eyes shut with a wounded, desperate noise and comes all over himself, still mouthing at Bucky’s dick.

“You’re incredible,” Bucky says wondrously, looking down at Clint’s face. He pulls his hips back, letting his dick fall from Clint’s slack mouth.

“What…” Clint tries to say, blinking up at Bucky. “What was that noise?”

“Huh?” Bucky still can’t pull his gaze away from Clint’s face, serene and sleepy and worn out and gorgeous, but then he remembers that Clint’s arms are cuffed and it’s probably murder on his shoulders, so he really needs to--

Oh.

The leather cuff is still securely fastened to Clint’s wrist and to the post of the bed, but it looks like he twitched so hard when he came that he ripped the post right off the headboard, and it’s dangling at Clint’s side.

“You broke the bed, babe,” Bucky murmurs, uncuffing Clint’s wrists and rubbing over his reddened skin.

“Add it to my rap sheet,” Clint says with a yawn. He rolls his shoulders and then turns onto his side, tangling his legs with Bucky’s and smiling. “Destruction of property. Bribing an officer. Resisting arrest.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a lot to pay for,” Bucky says softly, rubbing his thumb over Clint’s sharp cheekbone. Clint closes his eyes and shrugs.

“Guess so,” he mumbles. “Gonna be in sex jail for a long time.”

“Probably,” Bucky agrees. “I’ll make sure you get some conjugal visits.”

“Love you,” Clint says quietly. “Say it back real quick before I take out my aids, okay?”

“Love you,” Bucky says, and Clint grins and slips out his BTEs, giving them to Bucky to place on the bedside table. Bucky kisses him soft and chaste, savoring the gentle huff of Clint’s breath against his lips. He switches off the lamp, gives Clint one last kiss that has him smiling against Bucky’s mouth, and then they go to sleep in their broken bed.

(They _do_ have to choose a new safeword a week later when Clint accidentally orders Bucky to split him open like the Panama Canal, but what else is new?)

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr post](http://1000-directions.tumblr.com/post/183677501109/title-sex-jail-link-ao3-square-filled-sex-toy)


End file.
